


After Hours

by braezenkitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Come as Lube, Dom Dean, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Impact Play, M/M, Pool Table Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Sub Crowley (Supernatural), Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 04:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12786501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty/pseuds/braezenkitty
Summary: Dean convinces Crowley to head back to The Black Spur for a little after hours fun.





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThayerKerbasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/gifts).



> Thanks to [thayer](http://thayerkerbasy.tumblr.com) for the inspiration and for your patience. This is for you :)

“So you gonna zap us in there, or do I need to pull out the lockpick?” Dean asked, leaning one shoulder against the wall and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m the King of bloody Hell, and you want to use my powers to sneak into a closed bar?”

Dean smirked. “If you’re not going to use your powers for the fun stuff, what’s the point in having them?”

Crowley sighed and chewed his lip. Dean really was ridiculous at times, but that mischievous smile was irresistible. He teleported himself into the Black Spur and unlocked the door to let Dean inside.

“I don’t know why you even want to sneak in here,” he said, making straight for the scotch behind the bar. “We could’ve had a perfectly good time in the hotel room.”

“Because the triplets are sleeping.”

“I could’ve kept them asleep,” Crowley grumbled.

“And anyway, the hotel room doesn’t have a pool table, or a full bar.” Dean hopped over the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Not even the good whiskey. Crowley raised an eyebrow at him and poured himself a glass of the good scotch as Dean took a swig from his bottle. Dean leaned against the bar, watching as Crowley sipped his drink.

“See something you like?” Crowley asked, smirking as he set his glass down.

Dean shrugged and took another swig of whiskey. “You ever loosen up? Lose the suit and tie getup? You’re a little overdressed.”

“Overdressed for a closed down bar? What exactly is the dress code for this situation?”

“Well it’s not a suit and tie, that’s for sure,” Dean said, grabbing a glass and pouring himself a beer from the tap.

“Dean Winchester, are you trying to get me naked?”

“Just wondering what you’d look like in a pair of jeans for once.”

“You mean become a denim wrapped nightmare like you? Maybe throw on some plaid for good measure?”

“Exactly,” Dean said with a grin.

“No thank you.” Crowley sipped his scotch, watching Dean over the rim of his glass.

“Come on, let’s play a game,” Dean said, pushing off the bar. He grabbed his beer and a set of pool balls and took them over to the pool table. Crowley followed, bringing his bottle of scotch with him. He set it and his glass down next to Dean’s beer on a nearby table.

“Nine ball,” Dean said, racking the balls. “Loser loses a piece of clothing.”

Crowley snorted. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. Winner gets to choose which piece of clothing. You in or not?”

Crowley narrowed his eyes at Dean. “Alright, I’m in.” It had been a while since he’d played a game of pool, but he wasn’t half bad, and he could always use a touch of his powers to push the game in his favor if necessary. And the prospect of getting Dean out of that hideous outfit was tempting.

“And any use of demon mojo means an automatic forfeiture.”

Bollocks. “I wouldn’t dare,” Crowley said with a smile, picking up his glass for a sip of scotch.

“Right,” Dean said, giving him a sidelong look as he lifted the rack and left the balls on the pool table in a perfect diamond formation. “You can go first. Maybe you’ll have a chance that way.”

Crowley set his glass down and picked up a pool cue. He moved the cue ball to the opposite end of the table and lined up his shot. After breaking the balls, he was able to sink three of them before missing the fourth shot. Dean smirked, but didn’t say anything. Crowley took another sip of his scotch, emptying the glass as Dean proceeded to clear the table. _Bollocks_.

“Alright, fancy pants, lose the tie.”

Crowley glared at Dean, but loosened his tie and slid it off, hanging it over the back of a chair. The game continued, and before he knew it, Crowley was down to his black silk undershorts while Dean was still in a t-shirt and jeans.

“You up for one last game? All or nothing?”

“You’re on, pretty boy.”

 

* * *

 

Crowley did not win.

“Time to lose the shorts.”

“And then what?” Crowley asked, lifting an eyebrow and pouring himself another measure of scotch. He took a sip and watched Dean put the balls back in their tray.

“And then we play a different game.” Dean put the last ball in the tray and set it on a nearby table, leaving the pool table clear. He leaned a hip against it and crossed his arms, smirking at Crowley. “Now come on, don’t be a sore loser. I promise you’ll like this game. Hell, I’ll even give you back one article of clothing.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Crowley said, setting his glass down. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, he pulled them down and stepped out of them, folding them and setting them neatly on top of the pile of clothing he’d already shed.

“On the table,” Dean said, straightening and pushing off the pool table to close the distance between them. He pulled Crowley’s tie out of the pile of clothes and ran it through his fingers. “I’d hurry if I were you, before I get impatient.”

Crowley snorted. “As if you aren’t already.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and stared Crowley down. The hint of a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. Lips Crowley wanted very badly to feel against his own.

“If you’re not going to listen, I’ll be forced to punish you, Crowley.”

“Oh, is that how this is going to go?”

“It is,” Dean said, walking over to the rack that held the pool sticks.

“You do realize I could overpower you and take control of this at any time.”

“I do.” Dean draped Crowley’s tie around his shoulders and selected a pool cue. “But I also know you won’t.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yes, because you want to give me control. You want to give in and let someone else call the shots.”

Crowley smirked, picked up his scotch and took a long swallow. Maybe he did crave a loss of control, giving himself over to someone else to take care of for once.

“Chest on the table, arms above your head,” Dean said, smacking his open palm with the pool cue. “I won’t ask again.”

They stared at each other, battling for dominance with their eyes, until Crowley finally gave in with a shrug. He hoped the feigned nonchalance might fool Dean, but had a feeling it wouldn’t. Especially since there was nothing hiding the fact that he was half hard already. Bending over the edge of the pool table, he lifted his arms overhead and rested them on the felt.

“That’s better,” Dean said, walking around the table.

Before he disappeared from Crowley’s view, Dean slid the tie off his shoulders. Crowley felt it slither along his wrists now, and he shivered with anticipation. Dean carefully wrapped it around his wrists and knotted it, making it snug but not tight enough to cut off circulation or even really tight enough that Crowley couldn’t get out of it if he really wanted to.

“Keep your hands where they are,” Dean said as if reading Crowley’s thoughts. He walked back around to Crowley’s side of the table. Crowley jumped at the feeling of fingers dragging lightly over his bare arse.

The first thwack of the pool cue made him cry out in surprise more than pain, the crack of it against his skin echoing in the empty bar. Dean chuckled from somewhere behind him and Crowley tensed, anticipating the next swing. A sharp, stinging pain shot through him with the next hit, a harder one than the first, and his cock stirred to life in earnest. Crowley allowed himself a small groan as he flattened himself further against the table, pushing his ass out.

“Look at you,” Dean said, voice low. “Practically begging for more already.”

Crowley lifted his head and opened his mouth to retort but his words cut off into a cry as two more hits came in quick succession. He dropped his head to the table and bit his lip.

“I’ll let you know if I want a response from you,” Dean said, delivering another hit and then another. He set up a steady rhythm, and each thwack began to blur into the one before. Crowley’s cock hung heavy between his legs and he was squirming and panting by the time Dean finally stopped. Crowley felt a bit like he was floating on a cloud, his consciousness somewhere outside of himself. The pain mellowed to a pleasant warm blush across his arse cheeks.

Dean dragged his fingernails lightly over the skin and Crowley hissed. His hands continued up to curl around Crowley’s hips, and then Dean’s hips were flush against his ass. It was obvious how much he’d enjoyed beating Crowley. Dean ground his hips forward, rubbing Crowley’s inflamed skin with the rough denim of his pants.

“Gonna do something about that?” Crowley asked, pushing his hips back against Dean.

Dean stepped back suddenly and a hand came down against Crowley’s ass. Crowley yelped at the bright bloom of unexpected pain, but it quickly dissipated into the hazy cloud of endorphins he was floating in.

“I said no talking,” Dean growled. Crowley bit his tongue to keep from arguing that no, he hadn’t actually said no talking.

He heard the sound of a belt unbuckling and then a zipper, and then the sound of skin stroking skin. Crowley widened his stance, giving Dean free access to do as he would. He wanted Dean inside of him.

“Oh no,” Dean said with a chuckle, “you’re not gettin’ the D.” He continued to jerk himself off while Crowley writhed on the table, fighting the urge to push back against Dean. “Maybe later if you’re lucky.”

Crowley couldn’t help the groan of disappointment that rumbled out of him.

“But you have been pretty good. Took that beating so well,” Dean said, and grabbed Crowley’s hip with a gasp. His nails dug into Crowley’s flesh, the slight sting a nice counterpoint to the warm burn of his ass. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Crowley kept his mouth shut, waiting for Dean to continue as he listened to the sound of skin flying over skin. Dean’s grip tightened on his hip, and then a warmth splashed over his lower back. Dean moaned through his orgasm and Crowley’s neglected cock throbbed, his bollocks contracting. He was so close, even without being touched.

Dean’s grip loosened and he let go, stepping back, probably to admire his work. Crowley squirmed, being on complete display and feeling Dean’s eyes on him.

Dean chuckled. “Beautiful work, if I do say so myself.”

Crowley surreptitiously rolled his eyes.

“Alright, time for your reward,” Dean said, leaning over the table to untie Crowley’s wrists, then swiping a hand through the mess on Crowley’s back. “Lift up and turn over, hop up on the pool table, hands behind you.”

Crowley complied, only wincing slightly as his ass slid against the fabric of the pool table. Then Dean’s hand was on him, jerking him fast and tight, Dean’s come serving to slick the way. Crowley gasped and threw his head back, his cock throbbing in Dean’s hand.

Being as turned on as he was, it didn’t take long before Crowley’s pleasure peaked and he came with a wordless cry. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was glad he hadn’t screamed out Dean’s name. When he finally caught his breath and came down from the orgasmic high, he opened his eyes to find Dean watching him with a smirk.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” he said stepping back and zipping his pants. “Zap us back to the hotel and we’ll see if the triplets are up for round two yet.”

“You are insatiable,” Crowley said, gingerly scooting off the pool table. With a thought, he was clean and clothed, and all evidence of their activities was removed from the vicinity.

All except for the red stripes across his ass. Crowley wanted to keep those a while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://braezenkitty.tumblr.com).


End file.
